


Guilty Pleasures

by HopeTheCrazyCat



Series: Prompts, Requests, Gift Fics and Inspired By [11]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Church AU, Dark, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Exorcisms, Gaslighting, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kinda, Light Bondage, M/M, Masturbation, Mentions to Past Trauma, Pining, Praise Kink, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut, Unprofessional Exorcism, Wax Play, kind of, not exactly the safe kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:01:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24589501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeTheCrazyCat/pseuds/HopeTheCrazyCat
Summary: Church AU: Choir Boy Morty has a shameful crush on a Priest Rick. However, that isn't his only problem since he's also haunted by a Demon Rick at the same time, who can't be heard or seen by anyone else but him…
Relationships: Rick Sanchez & Morty Smith, Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Series: Prompts, Requests, Gift Fics and Inspired By [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1199620
Comments: 13
Kudos: 119





	1. His Problem

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by this [pic](https://twitter.com/peachium/status/1102643878610587649) by [@peachium](https://twitter.com/peachium) / [@madchrison](https://tmblr.co/mtmFYBI47Q1PJRCEfTL7shA) .  
> This was my first time writing a church AU fic, but you can never have enough of those, so here we go. Also, I won’t deny that Left_Handed_Rick’s fanfic [“Confirmation”](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F16778146%2Fchapters%2F39372217&t=ZjM0Yjk3ZjA2YzRhOTM5OTcyZWUyMDQyMGE2N2Y5ZjAyMTFjNWFkMyxONnljV2N0Wg%3D%3D&b=t%3A9loDNyg2Dr3eDQIhX8K8tw&p=https%3A%2F%2Framheavenandhell.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F620275623326285824%2Fguilty-pleasures-chapter-1-his-problem&m=1) (which is tons better than this piece of trash) influenced some of my writing ^^’  
> Also special thanks to [MrsSundae](https://twitter.com/SundaeMrs) for letting me run some parts of this story through with her first (your support always gives me so much confidence)!  
>   
>   
>   
> Warnings: (for the entire story) Rick/Morty smut, heavy non-con/dub-con and rape, masturbation, gas lighting, praise kink, dirty talk, one-sided pining, mentions to past trauma and it’s generally a very dark fic, so read at your own discretion

** Guilty Pleasures – Chapter 1: His Problem **

  
  
  
"Please forgive me, oh One True Lord, for my sins…"  
  
A low cackle was in his ears.  
  
He sat on his knees in front of his bed, elbows resting on the crumbled sheets as he held his hands in prayer.  
  
"…I have…touched myself…"  
  
 _"And enjoyed every minute of it!"_ Another cackle.  
  
The fine sheen of sweat on his skin, the flush on his cheeks that hadn't quite receded yet and tousled brown locks spoke loud and clear of the sin that he had just committed.  
  
"…and…and I had…inappropriate thoughts about…about Father Specs while I did it…"  
  
 _"You were imagining how he sucked your little dick and fucked your tight little ass all this time, didn't you?"_ The voice mocked him.  
  
He clenched his eyes shut tightly, his body slightly shivering from the cold that seeped through his nightgown, as the slowly drying sweat rapidly cooled down.  
  
"…please, One True Lord, help me resist these sinful thoughts…"  
  
 _"Oh, but they're such nice thoughts."_  
  
He tried to ignore the voice the best he could.  
  
"…and guide me back on the rightful path again…"  
  
 _"Don't worry, you are on the right path, Little Lamb."_ It sounded reassuring, but all wrong.  
  
He swallowed heavily, then took a deep breath.  
  
"Amen."  
  
Not waiting for another response, he quickly crawled on his bed and under the covers, the proof of his sin, still sticky on his stomach. Nonetheless, he tried to ignore it, turning on his side and hoping that sleep would catch him swiftly.  
  
The voice was quiet now, but that didn't mean that he still couldn't feel the presence in the room. Yet, the only thing that he could do was try to ignore it as well…  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Morty stood in row next to his _brothers_ , who looked hardly any different from him, clad in the same boys' school uniform, which was too big on his small frame. For some reason, he was smaller than what was seen as "the average Morty" even though Mortys were already short to begin with and these clothes made him appear even more fragile and dwarfed.  
However, he wouldn't complain and just be grateful to be given clothes in the first place. Of course, they only had these uniforms in one size and he couldn't expect them to make an exception for him and invest extra money that wasn't there to get him a custom sized one.  
  
"…and he was warmed, but not by the blessed rays of the sun, but from lust. His reddened skin burning as if alighted by the flames of hell and his sinful thoughts punished his body with fever and nauseating sickness…"  
  
He listened intently to the sermon, his eyes never leaving the preaching Priest Rick for even a second.  
Since everyone, who lived on the Citadel usually listened to either the name Rick or Morty, people have been addressing each other with dimension numbers or with nicknames. The nickname that this Rick was given was Father Specs, thanks to the thin-framed glasses that he wore.  
  
"…so do not let yourself be led into temptation because the One True Rick teaches us that only his holy touch is blessed and…"  
  
Just being able to hear his voice felt like a blessing for the small choir boy.  
  
 _"Hahaha! This is always so funny to watch!"_ The voice was directly in his right ear. _"Really. Just too_ cute _to see how you're always starring at him all dreamily like that!"_  
  
He tried to ignore it and kept paying attention to Father Specs' words instead. However, the voice didn't like to be ignored.  
  
Morty stiffened when he felt the touch of a hand gliding down the front of his shirt, his eyes turning wide and a blush staining his cheeks.  
  
 _"I bet you wish that you two were alone right now…"_ The touch trailed lower. _"…just the two of you and that he would look at you, giving all his attention to you~"_  
  
The brunet squeaked, causing Father Specs' blue eyes to turn on him briefly. Shamefully, he averted his gaze, not being able to look at the other and more heat gather in his cheeks.  
  
 _"Ahahaha!"_ Without a doubt, the voice enjoyed Morty's embarrassment, finding it clearly amusing.  
  
While the hand let go of him, the voice came closer, whispering directly in his ear and the choir boy could swear that he felt its breath ghosting over his skin. _"Just what would he think of you if he were to know what sinful thoughts you have about him? Hmm?"_  
  
Morty squirmed on the spot, noticing the priest worriedly glancing over to him for a second time. As much as he loved listening to Father Specs, he started to wish that mess would be over quickly.  
  
The boy sighed. It was already shameful enough that he had a crush on one of the Priest Ricks of this church, but sadly that wasn't his only problem. **HIS** constant teasing was an almost bigger problem for him now.  
Unfortunately, there was little that the boy could do about it.  
  
In order to blend the humiliation out, his thoughts drifted back to the time when he had come to this church.  
  
  
They called it the "Church of the One True Rick". Of course, this unique religion – or rather Rickligion as it was christened now – existed only on the Citadel of Ricks and had been created as an answer to the Morty-founded Mortyism.  
Since Ricks couldn't forbid the Mortys from believing in their _questionable_ god – at least not without risking an unnecessary protest and uproar of half of the population – they had the brilliant idea to just create their own form of belief and try to prove that it was better in every way.  
  
So eventually this church had been built and while it once had been the picture perfect symbol of Ricks' pettiness and unoriginality, its image had been slowly changed from a way to overcompensate for insecurities to a safe haven for those, who have lost all hope.  
They had started to take in Mortys, which the Reassignment Center refused, Morty Academy had given up on and that the Day Care couldn't be bothered with. Being merely second-class citizens, Mortys, who didn't have a Rick, technically had no rights, no employment and were usually forced to live in the slums also known as Morty Town.  
  
He was one such boy, who had no rights and no other place to go to. No Rick, no home dimension, just nothing. After failing graduation at Morty Academy, he had been fortunate enough to be taken in by the church instead of having to live on the streets.  
As such, he had found a new home in this place now.  
  
What he hadn't planned for was to also find love here. But honestly, how couldn't he?  
While the majority of the priests – all of them Ricks of course, mind you – were no different from the Ricks outside of the church walls, meaning that they were stern and treating the Mortys as if they were nuisances, this one particular Priest Rick that he had fallen for was different.  
  
Father Specs was kind and understanding and it was such a drastic difference to what he was used to – the only thing that he had known until then – that it honestly had made him reel in the beginning. Although, he treated all Mortys with this much consideration – offering that the door to his office was always open and he would lend them his ear – it still always made him feel special when the priest showed any kindness to him.  
  
Morty was hopeless lost and head over heels for him.  
Of course, there was no way that he could ever tell him that and confess his feelings. So naturally, this was a huge problem for the poor teen.  
…well, **one** of his big problems that is.  
  
  
After mess was over, everyone began to leave the chancel, Morty slowly trailing after the other choir boys. Pointedly, he glared up at the figure beside him.  
  
"Why did you have to do that?!" He hissed sharply, but quietly enough that no one else should be able to hear.  
  
Lips arched upwards in a smirk, looking almost diabolical as he stared down at him. The yellowed teeth were glinting and sharp like those of a predatory animal.  
He was tall, the wounded horns on top if his head only making him look more imposing and being such a stark contrast to the suit that he wore.  
It was weird to see him in such a formal outfit since the only time that the brunet had seen _someone like him_ wear that was at the funeral…  
  
 **This** was Morty's other problem. The demonic Rick that no one but him could hear or see.  
And he had no explanation as to why.  
  
Shortly after he had joined the church, the demon just suddenly appeared in front of him and had been sticking to him ever since then, never leaving his side. It was quite taxing to the boy, especially since the other seemed to find entertainment in annoying and publically humiliating him. His most fond topic was the boy's unfortunate interested in Father Specs.  
  
"Little Lamb?" The boy almost jumped when said priest suddenly appeared next to him. "Are you feeling alright?"  
  
Once more, a flush travelled to the brunet's face.  
His actual nickname was Small Morty, though most people just stuck to calling him "Runt" instead. However, Father Specs had chosen to give him a nickname of his own and would always call him _Little Lamb_.  
It made Morty feel more special than he had any right to be.  
  
"I-I'm fine. Thank you, Father Specs." He flinched from how squeaky his voice came out.  
  
The priest didn't look entirely convinced. "You know, if you ever need to talk about your troubles with someone, you can always come to me."  
  
Morty averted his eyes, clearly hearing a snickering from his right side. Oh how he wished that he could unload the burden of his heart on Father Specs, but obviously, he couldn't.  
There was no way that he could tell the priest about his inappropriate feelings for him nor the sinful thoughts that he entertained in the darkest hour of the night.  
It was something that he didn't even dare to bring to the confessional booth, too afraid that Father Specs would be the attending priest that would hear his confession.  
  
"Th-thank you for the offer, Father Specs, but I'm r-really fine."  
  
Father Specs regarded him again with a gaze that spoke how little he bought the lie. Opening his mouth for another reply, the priest brought his hand to the boy's shoulder in what he surely thought was a reassuring gesture.  
However, the sudden touch made the youth gasp and flinch and words lost on his tongue, Father Specs withdrew his hand as if he had been burned.  
  
Morty flushed anew with shame for his behavior while the priest gaped at him for a moment. Then the older man cleared his throat.  
  
"Even if my office isn't the confessional booth, whatever we talk about in there will be treated with the same confidentiality. So please do not be afraid even if you feel that it might be shameful to speak about it."  
  
 _"Oh, so_ shameful _indeed~"_ The voice from his other side singsonged again.  
  
How the priest phrased it made Morty fear that he had already been found out. That Father Specs was looking right through him and **knew**!  
  
He swallowed heavily. "I-I really appreciate your kind offer, Father. I…will think about it…"  
  
Father Specs gave a firm nod. Then he briefly stopped when their ways parted.  
  
"I hope to see you soon then, my child."  
  
Morty was the one, who nodded this time. Satisfied with that response, the priest walked off and the teen look after him.  
If possible, he would like to avoid talking privately about his troubles with him for a very long time…  
  



	2. Caught Red Handed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Rick/Morty smut, heavy non-con/dub-con and rape, masturbation, gas lighting, praise kink, dirty talk, one-sided pining, mentions to past trauma, for this chapter also unsafe wax play and mentions of past character death

** Guilty Pleasures – Chapter 2: Caught Red Handed **

  
  
  
"N-no…stop that!" A shouted whisper and whimpers penetrated the silence of the sanctuary.  
  
Morty was sitting on the altar only illuminated by the surrounding candles while the rest of the chancel was plunged in darkness.  
He knew that he shouldn't even be here at this late hour, yet he had left the dorms for a small prayer in the holy halls. After igniting some candles and praying properly on his knees, feeling blessed that this time it wasn't interrupted by the demon's murmurings, he planned to take his leave again.  
  
However, the devil at his side had other plans.  
  
 _"Tks! Pretending that you're praying when you only came here to think about the good Father again…"_ Unearthly pressure was on his back, weighing him closer towards the altar. _"Thinking about him finding you here and then bending you over the altar and fucking your brains out, eh Morty?"_  
  
"W-what? No…I-I wasn't…!" Unwillingly, he gave in to the pressure and stumbled a few steps forward until he felt like he was wedged between the altar and an invisible force.  
  
He felt that unbidden touch roam over his body, starting from his behind, going over his hips and aiming for his groin.  
  
A squeak escaped him and he clawed at the cloth that rested atop the wooden surface as if it could safe him. "No! D-don't do that!"  
  
 _"No need to act so coy, Morty. I know that you want this. That you love it~"_  
  
"I don't—" He interrupted himself with a moan and rose on the tip of his toes as if it would help him escape the sensations on his crotch. "…n-not there…"  
  
A low chuckle was his answer and he felt his body reacting to the immaterial hands. He hung his head and moaned in shame as his member filled out and rose, fighting against the front of the off-white nightgown that he wore.  
  
Not able to resist the temptation, one of his hands pressed against the greeting bulge and he could feel it twitch through the cloth when the fiend whispered a _"that's right"_ and _"good boy"_ in his ear. He could feel the otherworldly touch at the back of his hand as if the demon was trying to guide his movements, but it soon left again.  
  
 _"I have a fantastic idea for you, Little Lamb…"_ Demon Rick practically purred, loving to address him by the nickname that only the priest had for Morty. _"Hop on the altar!"_  
  
"What? Why?" The brunet forced his hand away from his hidden erection and turned his head to look at the demon that was towering above him.  
  
 _"Don't question it! Just do it, Morty!"_ An eye-roll. _"You're going to love this."_  
  
Reluctant, but feeling as if he had no real choice, Morty turned around and put his palms on the hard surface, lifting his body up to sit on the altar as instructed.  
  
Another praise – _"good boy"_ – caused a wave of heat to rush through his body and he looked down at his tented lap, unable to maintain eye contact with the other.  
If he wouldn't have averted his gaze, he would have been able to see a typical broad grin on Demon Rick's face.  
  
 _"Come on, Morty. Get that stupid thing out of the way."_  
  
With more hesitancy than before, the teen fumbled to grasp the hem of the garment and pulled it up. He figured that it was probably best to do that, so he wouldn't soil it, ignoring that he already left small stains of pre on the fabric and that the demon clearly thought about easier access than about dirty clothes.  
  
Next the barely feasible force coaxed him to lift one of his legs up and shifting his balance, he placed the heel at the edge of the altar, feeling too exposed in this new position to feel comfortable at all.  
  
 _"Don't be so uncreative now, Morty. C'mon, touch yourself."_  
  
Unable to keep his balance and holding up the gown at the same time, he took a corner of it between his teeth to have one hand free.  
Even though he knew that he really shouldn't, his cock was leaking and begging to be touched. So, he took hold of the stiff flesh and gave it a few slow pumps.  
  
His whine was muffled and his hand stroked faster, only pausing one moment for his thumb to rub over the sensitive head. He could see the barely visible hand wrap around his wrist, the light pressure there aiding his movements.  
  
Morty made the mistake to look up, staring directly into dark rubies that were intently fixed on him. Those eyes – or rather the look in them – always managed to frighten but also arouse him at the same time.  
…also there was something very familiar about it.  
  
Forcing himself to look away again, he focused once more on his self-gratification, biting a little harder on the cloth in his mouth and knowing full well how shamed he would feel again after this was over.  
  
However, the sin that was in the midst of being committed didn't seem to be enough for the fiend and suddenly Morty felt the pressure around his wrist grow as the other forced his hand away from his heated cock again.  
The boy emitted a desperate whine, but could do little else. While the demon's touches often felt only as light as a breeze and wasn't tangible enough to move any objects in this realm, there were times where he seemed to gain power – usually at the time when Morty was sinning – and his touch began to feel more solid.  
  
At the moment, the brunet felt like an actual hand was grabbing him, tight enough that he worried it might leave bruises and the light fabric fell from his mouth. "Wh-what are you doing?"  
  
 _"I just thought of something that you're gonna enjoy even more."_  
  
Morty's eyes widened as his hand was guided towards one lit candle on one of the nearby candle stands. "N-no…stop that!"  
  
He wouldn't put it past the demon that he was going to hurt him – in fact, he's done it before, forcing the brunet into literal self-flagellation at one point.  
  
 _"Stop crying, dipshit!"_ Demon Rick chastised and led the human boy's hand not as expected into the burning flame, but towards the cylindrical block of wax, using his second hand to make him hold onto it. _"Nothing wrong with a little bit of wax play."_  
  
Again, there was little that Morty could do as the demon steered his own hand back towards his half-naked body. He only squirmed and pleaded with the other as he watched how the candle dangerously tipped.  
  
A scream ripped from his throat when hot drops of wax landed on the inside of his thigh. "NO! NO! PLEASE STOP, RICK!!"  
  
 _"Oh, but we haven't even begun now,_ Little Lamb _."_ The demon moved his hands even lower between his legs, not caring about all the wax that dribbled on the floor now. _"I think you're ready for something_ nice _and_ big _now…"_  
  
Breath stuck in his throat when the brunet realized what the other planned and he whimpered in a mix of arousal and fear. He didn't want this. He wasn't ready for that yet!  
  
"Morty?" It was the voice of a Rick, but it didn't belong to the demon. "Is that you, my Little Lamb?"  
  
Blood froze in his veins and as if a deer caught in headlights, Morty could only stare wide-eyed at the last person, who should have caught him here like this. He could only imagine what kind of sight he was to him now, but there was no doubt that even in the dimmed halls, the other could see him clear as day.  
  
Could see how he sat, alone on the altar, his nightgown drawn upwards and exposing his slim legs and lower body, the flickering candle light casting shadows over his form as he unsteadily held one cylinder of wax in his shaking hand, its bottom dangerously close to his entrance and the priest couldn't deny that the possible intentions of what he planned to do with it were not lost on him.  
  
"F-F-Father!! I-I-I can explain!" No, he couldn't because this was exactly what it looked like.  
  
Claiming that a demon made him do it, would only sound like a poor excuse and he might get off easier if he just owned up to his sin.  
He was a sinner anyway and couldn't deny that he had been thinking about the priest when he touched himself…  
  
"My child…please move down from the altar and cover yourself…" Father Specs' voice sounded calm, but the brunet was sure that he must be furious on the inside…or at least upset.  
  
Hurriedly, he climbed down from the altar – almost dropping the candle in his haste – and pulled his robe back down. It was so embarrassing to think that the priest had seen him not only in this state of undress, but also in this compromising position.  
  
Without a single word exchanged between them, the elder helped him in tidying up the desecrated sanctuary and putting out the candles again. The air felt so tense and the blush on Morty's face must have become permanent.  
He was bracing himself for the other finally to speak up, giving him a punishment before sending him to bed, or maybe just telling him how disappointed in him he was now – anything.  
  
"My Little Lamb…" There it was. "I believe that we should go to my office and have a talk now."  
  
The brunet gulped, but trailed after Father Specs without complaint, the shame hanging on his shoulders like a heavy boulder – well, actually the Demon was leaning on it although he was weightless.  
Obviously, the other was amused by the whole ordeal again, cackling in what could only be schadenfreude and Morty wished that he could tell him off for this, silently blaming the fiend all the way, until they reached the office.  
  
  
  
The walk wasn't long and mere minutes later they arrived, the priest holding the door open before following him inside and closing it again.  
  
"Please have a seat." The priest mentioned towards a chair that stood across from his desk.  
  
Morty followed the invitation while Father Specs sat down as well. Silence reigned again as the boy studied the grain of the wooden desk, not able to look the priest in the eyes.  
He didn't know if the other was waiting for him to talk or if he had to think about the proper words on how to address this topic.  
  
Whatever it may have been, the brunet remained silent and so the Father began. "My child, I understand that you feel deeply ashamed for what you have done."  
  
He could only nod, still not looking up and making himself as small as he could – not that it would help him.  
  
"Let me tell you, Little Lamb, that I am not ignorant." The priest continued. "As it is in the nature of humans to sin, I know that all Ricks are very prone to do so, but this also goes for you Mortys. However, often there is a root for that sin."  
  
Eyes cast at his lap now, Morty fiddled with his gown. Certainly, there was more understanding for catching a teen masturbating when knowing that his hormones were the sole source of his horniness.  
That was just how nature was. However, it wasn't normal to fantasize about an alternate version of your grandfather, who was also a priest, while doing it.  
  
"I may not always be able to help, but just talking about it tends to lessen the burden." Shyly, the brunet dared to raise his gaze and Father Specs' face was full of understanding. "No matter how shameful it may be to you or if you feel like it is something that you can't even share in the confessional booth, we can talk about this freely here and there won't be any judgement."  
  
Eyes still filled with insecurity, he pleadingly looked up at the elder, wishing that he **could** actually tell him. Father Specs stood up from his chair and rounded the desk, kneeling down so he was eye to eye with him now.  
  
"You know, Little Lamb, you can confide in me. No matter what it may be, that troubles you. The words spoken here will stay inside this room. There is no need for shame."  
  
Morty was torn between getting lost in those warm blue eyes and averting his gaze again in utter nervousness. The way that Father Specs looked at him, made him feel as if the other could see every sin that he committed, every sinful thought that he ever had, as clearly as reading the words written in the book of the One True Rick.  
Was it possible…did he actually know of the source of Morty's shame.  
  
 _"C'mon! Just go ahead and tell him! Tell him how you want him to bend you over that desk and take you right now!!"_  
  
The demon's voice was no aid at the moment and he ignored it. Had to ignore it.  
  
"F-Fa-Father Specs! I-I—" His voice trembled.  
  
Quickly, the priest grabbed his sweating hands, grasping them tightly in what was surely meant as a reassuring gesture.  
  
"It is okay, my child. Just take a deep breath and say what you need to."  
  
His face felt so hot and again he was torn between the choice of enjoying the contact or ripping his hands out of the other's grasp.  
  
He took a shuddering breath, "I…", swallowed the heavy lump that slowly rose up his throat, threatening to cut off his voice and suffocate him, "…I…I'm…", holding contact with those blue orbs was no longer possible and he looked anywhere other than at the priest, "I'm sorry, but I can't…"  
  
Morty lost all nerve, not having it in himself to confess these unbidden feelings to the man that they were directed at. Unsurprisingly, a chuckle reached his ears, the demon finding amusement in his antics again.  
  
 _"You're such a chicken shit, Morty."_ It tutted. _"If you want him to bang you then just tell him!"_  
  
With a barely audible sigh, Father Specs let go of his hands again and rose, bringing a small distance between them. He took off his glasses and let them rest on the desktop, rubbing the back of his nose and closing his eyes, looking like he was in deep thought.  
  
Morty had heard rumors that Father Specs only ever took his glasses off when he got serious. Was the other angry at him now? Was he going to get in trouble for not telling? Would he force the answers out of him now?  
Maybe he **did** know all along and wanted to give Morty the chance to come clean about it, to repent by confessing and now that he refused, he would be punished…  
  
His breath was stuck in his throat as Father Specs stopped rubbing the bridge of his nose and turned his gaze once more on him.  
  
"Morty…" He went rigid since it was the first time that the priest addressed him by his actual name. "…while I will not go into detail, please know that you are not the only boy with problems that came here. I know of what burdens some of you have been plagued with and I also know that it is not easy to talk about it because you might feel shamed or even that you're laden with sin because of it."  
  
Oh holy Rick, he did know!  
  
"Perhaps, it might help you talk more freely, if I just ask you questions and you can chose to answer them no matter with how many or few words you feel comfortable with?"  
  
He forced himself to breathe again, but his throat felt parched, so instead of replying verbally, Morty could only shakily nod his head.  
  
"Okay, then I will be direct with you. Did your Rick ever touch you? Inappropriately?"  
  
"Whu-wha—?"  
  
Wait! That was what he had been thinking was troubling Morty?  
  
"N-no! Nothing like that! I mean, it wasn't—" Again, the small teen averted his gaze. "It's not like he actually **did** anything to me…"  
  
It was weird that this was suddenly brought to the forefront. No one had asked him about his deceased Rick and he hadn't dared thinking much about him anymore, too occupied with the teachings of the church – or rather his feelings for Father Specs – and dealing with that insistent demon.  
  
Said demon, narrowed his eyes at the sudden change in topic even though the boy couldn't see it.  
  
 _"You don't have to tell him anything, Morty."_ He hissed, his voice low.  
  
He knew that he probably shouldn't, but on the other hand, he never had the chance to talk about this with anyone. "I…he…I-I shouldn't be talking bad about someone deceased…"  
  
"It is okay, Little Lamb." Father Specs reassured him calmly. "As I said, this word is only between you, me and our holy lord, The One True Rick. No one will shame your Rick nor you, no matter what you're going to tell me now."  
  
"I…it's just…" It was a struggle to find the proper words without giving off the wrong impression. "It-it wasn't really like that. As I said, i-it's not like he **did** anything. He-he just…"  
  
 _"Watch what you're saying, Morty! This is none of this priest's business!!"_ The voice sounded almost threatening.  
  
"I-I-I'm sure it wasn't even anything! I probably just imagined it!" Now Morty was just trying to justify it to himself, talking himself out of over interpreting the things that his Rick had done. "Just…sometimes I just had the feeling that he was touching me for longer than necessary. Not inappropriately! Just, more than he actually needed to do… Or-or there were those times, when he just stood closer to me—or-or his looks. Just the way he looked at me…"  
  
He could remember that one time, when he had been caged in by his grandfather's arms and the other just looked down at him. Just staring straight into his eyes and his gaze was so full of…something like hunger.  
This certain stare that he had grown even more familiar to since another certain someone would constantly look at him like that. Those dark ruby eyes…  
  
 _"Wasn't that was you always wanted though, Morty? Having all of your grandpa's attention on you."_ The eyes, which so often looked at him in the exact same way, had turned aflame and bore into him. _"Don't go and complain to another Rick about it now!"_  
  
"No! No! I didn't want that!" Morty shook his head frantically, hands fisting brown locks in frustration and tears were rising in his eyes, but refusing to fall. "I never asked for that!!"  
  
"Morty, it's okay." Father Specs was suddenly in front of him again, holding his wrist and trying to calm him down again. "I know, my dear child. I know you didn't ask for it. None of you precious boys ever did."  
  
Tears were finally falling as Morty looked at the priest. "I'm sorry…"  
  
He was drawn into the robe-clad chest of the other and a gentle hand threaded through his hair. "There is nothing that you need to apologize for, Little Lamb. Nothing that you would need to be forgiven for."  
  
Morty only continued to cry into the black fabric. While he should feel happy about being comforted by this man, all he could do was feel like a hypocrite.  
He didn't deserve this kindness. Not when he had equally sinful thoughts about the priest, who was holding him right now.  
When all he wanted was for the other to gaze at him like that.  
  
The demon only rolled his eyes as he viewed the sappy scene, still seeming very pissed off. _"No need to be so theatrical! It's not like anything had happened!!"_  
  
He huffed as the duo continued to ignore him.  
  
 _"You wish you had been touched…"_ he muttered under his breath. _"…and I'll make sure that_ you're _wish comes true, Morty…"_  
  
  
  
Father Specs let him off to bed without any punishment in the end and Morty prayed that tonight's events would be forgiven before slipping under the covers, noticing that the fiend had become quiet…yet his aura emitted great danger. Ignorant as he was, he didn't understand where the demon's wrath stemmed from and only hoped that it wasn't directed at him…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case there's any confusion why Father Specs suddenly asked about Morty's Rick, he's been just adding a few things together, like when he touched him and Morty flinched (see last chapter) and he also heard Morty when he had shouted for (Demon) Rick to stop. Just wanted to clear this up in case I lost someone there.
> 
> Also, safety note: please don't use regular candles for wax play since you'll get burns from them. Standard candles get hotter than special ones made for wax play, so please use appropriate (and approved) ones if you're into that sort of thing and stay safe.


	3. Escalating Sins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Rick/Morty smut, heavy non-con/dub-con and rape, masturbation, gas lighting, praise kink, dirty talk, one-sided pining, mentions to past trauma and it's generally a very dark fic, so read at your own discretion

** Guilty Pleasures – Chapter 3: Escalating Sins **

  
  
  
Morty was convinced that Demon Rick was angry at him. While he could not remember, what he had done to evoke the devil's wrath, the other made sure to let him experience sheer hell over the next view days.  
Whether it was something considerably _small_ like depantsing him during choir practice or if it was feeling him up while he was in the confessional booth (where he at least admitted to the fact that he had touched himself in improper places without voicing any thoughts on Father Specs), causing him to squeak and the attending priest to tell him that he wasn't taking this seriously.  
  
The worst had to be though when he had acted out on Sunday's mess again.  
Father Specs was delivering the sermon once more and when their eyes crossed, he smiled reassuringly at the other, being able to see a hint of worry in the priest's gaze. After their talk in the office, they hadn't really spoken with each other, safe for mannered greetings in the hallways and the simple exchanges in classes.  
  
It seemed like the elder was still a little concerned about him – and that wasn't completely without reason – and was probably waiting for another visit to his office, which Morty had avoided so far.  
While it had felt relieving to talk to the priest, he still found himself unable to address his heaviest sin and confess these forbidden feelings to him. Maybe they would vanish one day and Morty would be able to speak freely about them then, but not now. He wasn't ready yet.  
  
 _"Does it make you hard when he looks at you?"_ Of course, the teasing voice was right next to him again.  
  
The choir boy tried to ignore it, focusing on the words of Father Specs, but naturally this wasn't going to be enough to stop Demon Rick. Just like the last time, an incorporeal hand touched his chest, but safe for sharply sucking in some air, the teen didn't give anything away and drew no attention on himself.  
  
If this disappointed the fiend, he didn't show it. Invisible fingers toyed with the row of buttons on front of his white shirt for a moment, sneaking through the tiny gaps between them to tease the warm skin underneath and then slipped lower.  
Morty gulped, but still tried to keep his voice in check. You'd think with how often the demon had done this that the teen would have become desensitized to these touches, but unfortunately for the brunet, that wasn't the case.  
  
Of course, Demon Rick knew this as well and therefore played with the hem of those navy blue shorts now that were held up by matching suspenders. _"Really neat of them to make you wear these uniforms. You look so fuckable in this outfit. Bet that's why the pervy Rick priests chose this for you Mortys to wear."_  
  
The boy's features became visibly strained and he had to bite the inside of his cheek, his body heating up enough that he began to sweat. Thankfully, Father Specs wasn't looking his way right now or Morty was sure that he would die on the spot.  
  
However, Demon Rick had just started and wasn't even thinking about stopping soon. The hand that was only visible to the brunet, wriggled underneath the waistband now and stroked with a feather-light touch over the boy's sensitive abdomen, causing the Morty to gasp and his body to go rigid.  
  
That noise caused a few pair of eyes to land on him, but it still didn't disrupt the sermon, which was good. To the teen's embarrassment though his posture wasn't the only thing that had turned stiff.  
Obviously, the demon noticed it, too, chuckling in amusement and retreating from his spot inside the boy's shorts again.  
  
Even though Morty should have expected it, he still couldn't hold in the moan that ripped from his throat when Demon Rick pressed against the visible bulge in his pants with more pressure.  
  
Father Specs stopped talking mid-sentence and every attendant looked at Morty now, who had clamped one hand over his mouth and shielded his crotch with the other. His face was red enough that it could surely glow in the dark and he wished for nothing more than a black hole to open up underneath his feet and swallow him.  
  
"S-s-sorry…" He stuttered apologetically and stared in shame at the ground, not being able to face anyone and especially not his beloved priest right now.  
  
Thankfully, the sermon quickly continued and aside from a few more nasty glances that were thrown his way, nothing else happened. Demon Rick got a good laugh out of the boy's humiliation and Morty honestly started to loath him.  
  
  
  
The rest of mess went without interruptions as the fiend seemed to have his fill of entertainment – at least for now – but once again, Father Specs approached Morty afterwards.  
  
"Perhaps you wish to talk in the privacy of my office again, Little Lamb?" He offered. "You know, there is no need to be shy. My doors are always open for you."  
  
Ignoring the demon's words, which tried to encourage him to accept the priest's generous offer, Morty meekly apologized. "I-I-I…n-no, I'm fine. Thank you. And I-I'm so s-sorry for…what happened d-during mess, Father."  
  
"I understand…" Father Specs looked like he wanted to protest, but he wouldn't force the boy to talk to him if he didn't wish to do it of his own accord. "Just remember that you can always come to me."  
  
By Rick! He really didn't deserve this much kindness from the other man. Although this humiliation was to blame on the demon, Morty couldn't deny that he also carried partially weight of this sin.  
Just why did he always have to give in so easily to the devil's whims and temptations? Why couldn't he just properly resist and ignore his words and touches?  
  
This was what Morty had been thinking about for the better time of the day until evening, fighting to ignore the demon and any advances that he tried on him again.  
  
  
  
By the end of the day, he felt so tiered and worn out and wished for nothing more than to sink in his bed and flee away into dreams that were better than the real life that he had to deal with – even if it would only be a momentary escape.  
He dragged himself towards the dorms and his specific room, glad that the only expectations that the holy men and the One True Rick had off him now was to go to sleep.  
  
While Morty had no idea why he had been more privileged than other Mortys, he had been given the luxury of a single bedroom. At least for now, the Cardinal Rick had told him, because as soon as the church had received enough donations to afford more bunkbeds, he would get new furniture and eventually roommates.  
  
The teen wanted to enjoy this peace and solitude as long as it would last, but sadly he was only lying to himself. There was no peace and solitude because he was never alone.  
  
That fiend, who had the same appearance as a Rick sat currently on the windowsill and his glowing red eyes didn't leave Morty's frame for even a second. While it never failed to unnerve the brunet, he tried vehemently to ignore the stare as he quickly changed out of the school uniform and into his simple off-white nightgown.  
  
The altruistic clothing had confused him the first time that he had experienced it, but he figured that it was just something that would be expected to fit with the entire image of this church. Also, he really couldn't complain because those clothes were a gift from the people that allowed him to stay here and fed him with the only payback being attending to classes and the sermons. Instead of questioning it, he should just gratefully accept it – which he honestly did.  
  
After kneeling in front of his bed and saying his evening prayer – ignoring the chuckles and whatever commentary the demon in his room saw fit – he quickly crawled under the covers. Turning onto his side with his back facing the fiendish intruder, he hoped that sleep would claim him quickly again.  
  
However, he couldn't help but feel the intense stare of the other burning through the cover, the night clothes and his very being. It was unnerving enough to keep him awake.  
  
While he still couldn't see the other, he felt that he was nearing his bed now. Morty clenched his eyes shut tightly, hoping to blend the demon out.  
  
Just don't react to him and his games! Just fall asleep quickly!  
  
Even when the brunet told this to himself, a gasp escaped him as he felt a touch on his back. It didn't really feel like a hand or anything solid. It was hard to describe, just a certain sensation.  
He could feel how it stroked down his back then back up again, light enough that it could have been mistaken for just a breath of air if it weren't so insistent.  
  
 _"Oh, come on, Morty. You don't really need to sleep yet, do you?"_ The voice was so close to his ear that he could vividly imagine the demon leaning over him now.  
  
No! He had to be steadfast this time and not give in to him!  
  
Morty could feel the touch wandering over his shoulder and stroking down his chest now. His body shuddered and for a moment, he really believed that a hand had slipped underneath his nightgown and was caressing his skin.  
  
"Stop that! Please, just leave me alone." Again, he was glad that he didn't have to share the room with anyone or his roommates would declare that he was crazy for talking to himself like this.  
  
The Demon Rick merely chuckled and didn't even dream about letting off. _"Don't be like that, Morty. You're just upset that it's not your_ beloved _Father Specs, who's doing this to you, am I right?"_  
  
Color rose to Morty's cheeks at the bold accusation and he couldn't entirely deny it even if he also refused to admit it aloud.  
  
 _"I know, I know. You want him to touch you, have his hands all over your body…"_ The faint sensation roamed all over his skin. _"…lick and kiss your soft skin and then have him just fuck you into the mattress."_  
  
Morty whimpered. Not only from the words but also from the teasing that he could clearly feel against his hardening nipples.  
  
"No…stop…" He weakly protested.  
  
The incorporeal appendage slid lower, gliding over his stomach. _"I know that you don't really mean that, Morty. You don't want me to stop."_  
  
When it was just close of reaching his swelling member, Morty turned onto his back. Not able to ignore the demon any longer, he looked up at him. Indeed as he had imagined, the fiendish Rick had crawled on the bed and was kneeling over him now, pupils in the shape of diamonds blown wide and accented by a ring of unearthly red.  
  
A wide grin showed off his pointy yellowed teeth and if it wasn't for that, those eyes and the horns on his head, Morty could have convinced himself that this was just a Rick and not some kind of otherworldly creature that loomed over him right now.  
The demon's eyes wandered his body up and down, gaze lingering for a moment on the erection that tried to poke through the nightgown and that stare made the boy shudder as it always did.  
  
 _"What are you waiting for, Morty? Touch yourself, I know you want to."_  
  
Even though, he knew that he shouldn't, the throbbing between his legs was too insistent to just ignore it any longer, so he gave in and peeled the gown up until his erection sprang free and he had unhindered access to it.  
  
 _"That's right. Show yourself to me how you want the good Father to see you…"_  
  
A whimpered escaped Morty as he reached down and avoided looking at the fiend. He didn't want the other to look at him right now and especially didn't want Father Specs to see him like this!  
…although he couldn't ignore that the thought of the priest watching him send another wave of heat through his body.  
  
Clenching his eyes shut and biting his lower lip, he pumped his heated flesh, feeling disappointed in himself as he realized how easily he had given in to the demon's temptation and sin once again.  
By Rick, he really was weak-willed!  
  
His eyes snapped open on their own accord as he felt a strong sensation on his hand that was aiding him in his movements, making Morty grip himself harder and stroking faster and he gasped and his poor heart almost stopped in his chest as he was greeted by Demon Rick's eyes since the other was so close that he was practically in his face right now.  
  
 _"C'mon, Morty! Let me hear you."_ The fiend urged him. _"Your beloved Father Specs would also want to hear his Little Lamb calling out for him."_  
  
"N-no…" Vehemently, he shook his head, not wanting to give the demon any more satisfaction than he already did and bit into the knuckles of his free hand.  
  
 _"Tsk! So stubborn…we'll see how long that lasts…"_  
  
The immaterial hand released him again and Demon Rick sat up, causing Morty to stare up at him in confusion. Still, he didn't stop his actions, his hand still pleasing himself as if on automatic.  
Another shudder wrecked his body though with the way that the devil looked down on him.  
  
 _"Let me make this better for you. I know exactly what you want…"_  
  
A stronger sensation of touch wandered up both of Morty's legs and as soon as they reached his thighs, the demon forced them to part.  
  
"Ah!" Morty felt even more vulnerable and exposed like this, embarrassment flaring up full force again.  
  
 _"You want the good Father to do this to you, don't you Morty?"_ Try as he might, Morty couldn't fight against the demon's hold, his grip so strong and tangible that he feared it would actually leave handprints on the skin of his thighs. _"You wanna spread your legs for him wide like a good little slut."_  
  
The words and the new position didn't leave the boy unaffected and shamefully, he noticed how wet he was, precum dripping from him like a tiny river and running over the hand that was still fisting his cock.  
He could feel it twitch in his hold when a tiny moan escaped the demon's lips as he regarded him with a hungry gaze again.  
  
 _"Fuck! You really look good like this, Morty…"_ He moved forward, laying between the boy's splayed legs. _"So wet…"_  
  
The boy's eyes turned wide and his hips bucked reflexively as Demon Rick suddenly licked over his erection. It was the weirdest feeling, certainly not like an actual tongue even though Morty hadn't experienced what that felt like yet.  
With a groan, the demon stopped again, probably feeling frustrated that he wasn't able to taste the boy for real.  
Still, Morty silently wished that he would do it again.  
  
 _"I would love to suck your dick right now like I know you want Father Specs to suck it. Too bad that I can't in this form."_ He honestly sounded and looked upset now. _"But I guess, I can still give you something else instead…"_  
  
His previously saddened expression was replaced by a diabolical-looking grin that made Morty honestly feel scared.  
When Demon Rick grabbed his wrist and dislodged the fist that was previously clamped between the boy's teeth, the brunet began to protest.  
  
"No! No, please! Don't! I don't want that!" Even if he had no idea what the fiend had planned, he was sure that he didn't want it – that he wasn't ready for it because he never was!  
  
His pleas were unsurprisingly ignored and Demon Rick managed, with a bit of trickery, for two fingers to uncurl. _"Here! Let me show you what you really want!"_  
  
Morty screeched as without warning, the digits were forced dry into his ass and the mixed feeling of pain and pleasure made him cum. Losing his sight to blinding whiteness, he could feel his insides squeezing around his fingers and his semen spurting on his chest and stomach.  
  
 _"There you go, baby."_ If the demon was upset that he finished too quickly, he didn't show it, his voice sounding very pleased and accomplished.  
  
It took the teen a while to find properly back to reality again and when he did he winced as he slowly withdrew his fingers from inside him again. With less haste then he liked, he covered himself with his nightgown again and slid from the bed.  
  
The demon likewise had stood up and watched the boy in amusement now, how he kneeled in prayer in front of his bed again, elbows resting on the crumbled sheets.  
  
With a painful throb between his legs, stickiness on his chest and stomach and sweat cooling on his flushed skin, Morty asked the One True Rick for forgiveness, ignoring every jab that Demon Rick threw at him – no matter how true his accusations were.  
  
  
Even after finishing and crawling back under the covers again, trying to ignore the presence in his room, it took Morty a long while till he could finally find slumber.  
  
His restless dreams were haunted by ruby eyes…  
  



	4. The Exorcism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter guys! And just in advance: please don't stone me to death!
> 
> Warnings: Rick/Morty smut, heavy non-con/dub-con and rape, masturbation, gas lighting, praise kink, dirty talk, one-sided pining, mentions to past trauma, in this chapter (unprofessional) exorcism and light bondage

** Guilty Pleasures – Chapter 4: The Exorcism **

  
  
  
This was it! This had been the last straw for Morty.  
After yesterday's (and last night's) events, he decided that he couldn't deal with this anymore.  
  
He needed to get rid of this demon, but it was obvious that he wouldn't be able to do it on his own. His measly efforts to browse the church's library for some useful books on exorcism hadn't bore much fruit.  
However, he was in a church, surrounded by clerics, so there should be a way to get rid of a demon around here.  
  
The only option that was left for Morty was to ask for help now.  
Of course, Father Specs had offered that he could always come to him, but he was afraid that the other wouldn't believe his words.  
Honestly, if someone was to tell him that they were seeing and hearing a demon while no one else could, he wouldn't believe them either and think at best that they were mentally ill.  
  
However, if the teen wanted to salvage his sanity (or at least the little bit that was still left of it), he needed to tell this to someone and hope that they knew how to deal with this accordingly. And the only person that came to mind was Father Specs.  
  
  
So he found himself in front of the priest's office, knocking softly at the wooden door.  
  
There was the sound of shuffling papers before a dull voice reached his ear. "Come in."  
  
Hesitantly, he opened the door and stepped in, hoping that he wasn't interrupting Father Specs and that the other had time to talk. Even when he offered that he could always come to him, he knew that the priest was also busy with other work of organizing nature.  
  
"Oh, it's you, my Little Lamb." Father Specs sounded and looked surprised, not really having anticipated that the small boy would show up at his office unprompted. "Please, please, come in and have a seat."  
  
Just like last time, Morty followed the invitation and swallowed heavily. Even though he had made up his mind about this, he still didn't know _how_ to voice his problem.  
  
"What is troubling you, Little Lamb?" Father Specs asked kindly, but noticed quickly that the boy was nervous and reluctant again. "Please, take your time."  
  
It wasn't time that Morty needed but guts. And being able to see the demon wandering around the office calmly like this, didn't really help him.  
After his last visit here, Demon Rick had been starting to act admittedly more vicious and the boy was scared what he might do to him if he finally told someone – not only told, but also begged to help him in exorcising this hellish creature.  
  
He looked away from the fiend, who lazily let his hand trail over the big wooden crucifix that hung on the wall, clearly unbothered by the sanctified object and turned his eyes back towards the priest, who still looked at him expectantly.  
Here goes nothing.  
  
"Father Specs, I see and hear the Unholy One." He blurted out.  
  
The priest looked a slight bit shocked at the statement, before his features softened a little. "My dear child, he always wanders between us, trying to lead us into temptation, but The One True Rick teaches us—"  
  
"No! That's not what I mean!" Morty interrupted him, seeing that the other clearly misunderstood him. "I literally see the Devil! He's standing right there, next to you, Father. He-he looks like a Rick, just like you, but he's a demon. I'm the only one who can see or hear him and-and I'm thinking that I must be possessed or something…"  
  
Father Specs blinked, looking stumped.  
  
"Please…please help me, Father Specs…" His plead was a mere whisper. "The prayers won't make him go away and I don't know what to do anymore."  
  
While the priest was still utterly speechless, the demon began to chuckle. _"Help you, Morty? You mean help you jerk off?"_  
  
Demon Rick seemed unbothered by the possible threat of him being exposed now…or maybe he thought that the priest wouldn't believe Morty.  
  
Father Specs took off his glasses and rubbed his nasal bone again. "Little Lamb, how do you…what do you think, I can do to help you with this problem?"  
  
"Do you believe me, Father Specs?" The brunet asked meekly, scared that the other was thinking about committing him to a mental institution now.  
  
"Of course, I believe you. You would have no reason to lie about something like this to me." The priest reassured him. "I merely wish to know what you imagined how I can be of aid to you in dealing with this…burden."  
  
A sigh of relief escaped him and he visibly relaxed in the chair. "Thank you so much, Father Rick! And I uh…wouldn't you need to perform some kind of exorcism or something like that?"  
  
Honestly, he knew nothing more than what he had seen in horror movies about this topic and if he wouldn't have this happening to himself right now, he would have never believed that demons and such things could even be real.  
  
Father Specs nodded. "Indeed, an exorcism would solve this problem very efficiently, but are you sure that you really want to go through that procedure?"  
  
The boy gulped once more and thought that the process was probably nasty and maybe even painful if the priest was so reluctant to offer it.  
…but he really couldn't deal with this anymore and needed to get rid of this demon, no matter what!  
  
"Y-yeah…" He nodded shakily. "I'm sure, Father. So c-can you…will y-you…?"  
  
"I promised that I'll help you any way that I can, Little Lamb. If you're really ready for this, then let's do it."  
  
Morty felt light and heavy at once, the feelings inside his body mixing together so that he wasn't able to tell what he really felt anymore.  
  
However, tears rose to his eyes and he smiled. "Thank you so much, Father Specs."  
  
It should have been good news for him, but he couldn't help but notice that Demon Rick looked too relaxed for someone, who technically just received the death penalty…  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Morty felt nervous. Eternally grateful to Father Specs for helping take care of the demon, but so, so nervous.  
Hesitantly, he knocked on the wooden door at the appointed time and waited.  
  
It was dark in the hallway, everyone in these sacred walls supposed to rest. Hopefully, after this night, he could finally join the rest in peaceful and undisturbed slumber.  
While he waited with baited breath, he could hear the pulse of his own heartbeat so loudly in his ears that he was almost convinced that it was reverberating through the floor and walls.  
  
Oh Rick! If he were to be caught like this, people would surely misunderstand.  
There was only one thing that they could think of, why a choir boy would visit the bedroom of a priest sneakily in the middle of the night – especially since he was already dressed in his nightgown.  
Rumors would spread and worse than his own fate, he feared for the image of his beloved Father Specs.  
  
After what felt like an eternity in wait, but was only a few seconds, the door finally opened and a square of light that briefly lit up a small part of the hallway almost blinded him.  
  
"You're on time, my Little Lamb. Come inside."  
  
He didn't need to be told twice and quickly stepped into the room as the other made way for him. After the door was closed once more and he felt the safety and privacy of the priest's quarters, he took the time to briefly look around.  
The bedroom was simple, no different from the single room that he had been graciously bestowed with.  
  
His gaze immediately fell on the queen-sized bed, linen sheets neatly stretching over the mattress, showing not a single wrinkle. On the wall over the headboard hung a huge cross, engraved with the symbols of the Ricklegion of the One True Rick – the pyramids, the all-seeing eyes and the portal together with a figure of the One True Rick in all of his glory.  
  
Next to the bed stood a small wooden table, the book of the One True Rick resting on it, its leather cover looking worn.  
At the end of the same wall was a simple clothes cupboard and the only other furniture in the room were a desk and a chair, which looked as modest as the rest of the room.  
  
Morty had always wondered if the rooms of the priests looked nicer than the boys' dorms, imagining that they would have luxuries that no Morty would be granted. However, now that he stood in this room, he only realized that he was given no more or less than the Ricks who also lived here.  
  
Father Specs went to the table, gathering some objects that he had placed there in preparation. "Lay down on the bed, Morty. I'll be with you in a moment."  
  
Feeling his nerves, which had calmed down for a second as he inspected his surroundings, frazzle again, he reluctantly neared the bed and crawled on the mattress.  
  
"Will…will it hurt, Father Specs?" He almost felt silly for asking because it didn't really matter if it would or not – this needed to be done! – and they had already established beforehand that this procedure would not be a pleasant one.  
  
The priest turned his head towards him briefly. "It will…for a moment. Please just try to endure it, Morty."  
  
A nod was his answer. It's not like Morty had a choice and he could only hope that this would be over with soon.  
As told, he laid down on the bed, his head resting on the pillow and he could faintly pick up the scent of the priest.  
  
Heat rose to his cheeks as he realized that all he needed to do was turn his head and bury his nose in the pillow to smell it more clearly. Thinking about in what a compromising place he was right now – in Father Specs' bed! – also didn't help his thoughts from straying in directions that they weren't meant to.  
  
Father Specs joined his side as promised mere seconds later and the teen was now able to have a closer look at the objects that he had brought along.  
A small bulbous jug was placed on the nightstand, its contents a mystery. Maybe it was holy water? That would make sense to find use in an exorcism, right?  
  
The other objects in Father Specs' hands were stripes of cloths. These confused Morty since they looked simple without any symbols stitched into them, so their use in this ceremony did not come to him.  
  
"Give me your hand, child."  
  
Without question, Morty offered his right appendage, placing it into the priest's hand that had been waiting for it with an open palm. One of the cloths was tied around his wrist – tightly, but still with enough room to not cut off the blood vow.  
The brunet followed the movements with big eyes as Father Specs guided it towards the headboard and then began to tie the other end of the cloth to the wooden pillar that adorned the bedframe.  
  
"Uh…Father Specs?" He asked nervously, not sure what to think of being tied to the bed.  
  
The priest rounded the bed after he was done and reached for the teen's other wrist, repeating the actions. "Do not worry, Little Lamb. This is necessary. Believe me. I've performed a few exorcisms before."  
  
"O-okay."  
  
Morty tried to relax again, deciding to trust the minister, who knew more about these things than he did. However, when he glimpsed at the demon, who of course had followed him like always, he felt unnerved again.  
  
A broad grin was on Demon Rick's face. For someone, who was about to be driven out, he looked entirely too pleased.  
Did he think that the priest would fail or where else did he take this confidence from?  
Morty decided to pay no attention to that – for the sake of his own poor mind.  
  
After Father Specs had made sure that the binds were secured properly, he joined the brunet on the bed.  
A squeak escaped the teen, when the priest pulled on his nightgown and lifted it up until it bunched underneath his chin, his body completely exposed now. The lack of underwear had never bothered him before, but it did right now and hastily he drew up his legs to hide his most private parts from sight.  
  
"Calm down, my child. There is no need for shame." The other shushed him. "This is not a sight that I haven't seen before already."  
  
With hands less gentle than Morty was used to from the priest, his thighs were forced down and pride apart and quickly Father Specs moved between them to hinder him from clamping them together again. Their position felt suddenly too intimate to be comfortable anymore and the brunet painfully became aware of how helpless he was right now – tied to the bed, practically naked and with a Rick between his legs.  
…it also remembered him a little too much of last night where he had found himself in a very similar-looking situation.  
  
Again, it didn't help that the demon stood beside the bed, grin smug and a sparkle in his eyes. He looked so delighted that it was honestly worrisome.  
Morty wondered if he should inform Father Specs about it or if it was better not to address that issue.  
  
The priest reached for the jug that he had previously placed on the nightstand now and held it ceremoniously over Morty's chest. Carefully, he tipped it and a gasp escaped the teen as the contents dribbled on his chest.  
  
Oil. The texture and smell made it obvious that it was oil.  
In slow and deliberate movements, Father Specs let it run on his chest, then his stomach and the last of the contents over his crotch. Morty squirmed as he felt it run down the curve of his balls and over his entrance and he thought more and more that this was a bad idea.  
  
'Father Specs knows what he's doing. Just trust him.' He kept telling himself, trying to calm his racing heart.  
  
Of course, his endeavors were in vain and the muscle pumped even harder as the priest placed the empty jug back on the small table and his warm hands touched the teen's skin.  
  
In slow and gentle movements, Father Specs spread the scented oil over his upper body. The tips of his fingers glided high enough that they brushed Morty's Adam's apple, then wandered over his shoulders and along his arms.  
  
While the massaging motions were probably meant to be soothing, they seemed to have the exact opposite effect on the teen. Especially when the old and experienced hands were back on his chest and brushed over shamefully hardening nipples, Morty had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from making any traitorous sounds.  
  
If he wouldn't know any better, he would have almost suspected that Father Specs was testing him because he repeatedly stroked in circles over his pecs, palm rubbing against the nubs each time again.  
While Morty still managed to keep his voice in check, he sadly had not as much control over the rest of his body and he felt to his greatest misfortune that his penis was hardening.  
  
Thankfully, the priest deemed this area of his body done. However, there was no relief for the poor teen as he stroked over his stomach now, his muscles quivering from the touch.  
  
"Um, Father Specs?" He had to clear his throat, his voice no more than an embarrassing squeak. "I-is this really n-ne-necessary?"  
  
"It's preparation, Morty." The reply was curt and the priest continued with his ministrations undeterred.  
  
Another shuddering breath escaped him and teeth dug into rosy flesh again as a finger dipped into his navel, regathering the oil that had pooled there.  
His breath turned fast enough that he was practically hyperventilating as those digits slid even lower. Morty was waiting for them to reach his most shameful place…or at least for Father Specs to address the sin.  
  
However, the hands bypassed his private area and the priest's lips remained sealed.  
Before he could catch himself, a moan escaped the brunet's mouth as the slightly warmed oil was spread over the sensitive insides of his thighs.  
If he could, he would hide his red face, but his bounds hands made it impossible to do anything else other than lay there and endure the treatment.  
  
Father Specs was thorough with his ministrations, taking each leg in his hands and massaging the tensed muscles, leaving no spot untouched as he even threaded with slick fingers between the boy's toes. All of these touches left Morty a shaking mess on the bed and he wondered for how much longer this _preparation_ had to go on.  
  
He almost thought that they were finally done when the priest's appendages stroked up the inside of his legs again, this time with more haste then before. Yet, Father Specs was far from finished.  
  
"F-FATHER!!" His eyes widened drastically as the touch was focusing on the root of his lust. "Ah! Wait! I—"  
  
"Shh, Little Lamb." The other shushed him, yet didn't let off. "I know that this isn't your fault. It's the devils doing."  
  
Morty wanted to cry. Of course, he knew that this wasn't the demon's fault. He was like this because of Father Specs' touches. The burden of this sin was entirely his to bear.  
  
"Hnhg…" Whimpers escaped him as the warm and slick hand stroked up and down his shaft.  
  
It felt so very different being touched there by someone else – even from the times when his hands had been guided by the demon. Father Specs massaged his flesh with such experience and unhesitant familiarity as if he did nothing else the rest of the day.  
…this was a thought that he really better not entertain…  
  
Morty couldn't help but arch into the other's touch when that hand caressed the tip, spreading and coaxing forth more pre that had begun to flow freely – much to the brunet's increasing abashment.  
Then the digits moved lower again, past the base of his erection and trailing over his balls.  
  
More breathy moans escaped him as the priest took his time to coat them thoroughly in the slick substance as well. After fondling his balls for a few minutes, the fingers went lower again and the brunet gasped as they slipped along his cleft and came to rest over his pink pucker.  
  
His breathing faltered as Father Specs spread his asscheeks slightly apart, blue eyes intently focused on his rosette and to his chagrin his hole reflexively clenched and unclenched – winking – as the priest's thumbs passed briefly over it again.  
  
 _"That's right, dear Father."_ Demon Rick had crawled on the bed and leaned over the priest's shoulder, also gazing down at the boy's entrance and wearing a toothy grin. _"You can't resist this. Everyone knows that you're fucking Mortys after mess in your office or in the confessional booth. So take this sacrificial little lamb!"_  
  
"WHAT?!" Wide-eyed the brunet stared at the man, who still stared at his most private part. "Father Specs! Did you—have you—are you having sex with the other Mortys?"  
  
Blue eyes looked up at his face now and the minister took of his glasses, placing them safely on the bedside table. Looking directly in the boy's brown orbs, his hands lifted his robe and lowered his pants, revealing a fully erect (and huge) cock. The sight of it made Morty's eyes bulge…and if he was honest, it was for more reasons than just one.  
  
Stroking his cock with one well-oiled hand – and emitting a faint sigh – Father Specs finally replied. "My Little Lamb, you're not the only child that had been possessed by the unholy. I have exorcised many demons, cured many Mortys from their predicament like this. So don't you worry. Have faith."  
  
Faith wasn't the problem here!  
Of course, normally Morty would have been elated at the prospect to have this happen with the other, but when he had approached Father Specs, he had been seriously seeking his help. He needed actual help with this Demon Rick – an actual exorcism – and not this!!

No wonder that the fiend was cackling, having known full well all along that this would have nothing to do with getting rid of him.  
  
As Father Specs was done treating his own flesh and pushed the head against his entrance, the teen struggled against his bounds. "No! Please, Father! Wait!"  
  
Ignoring the boy's pleas, the priest moved his hips forward and pushed inside, causing Morty to screech from the penetration. Without giving them any time to get used to the intrusion, Father Specs pulled out and drove back in again.  
  
Hot tears trailed down Morty's glowing cheeks and he sobbed and begged, but it fell on deaf ears. Looking through a blurred veil of wetness, he could see both Father Specs' and the Demon Rick's face staring down at him, so close to each other that it almost seemed that they were fusing into one.  
  
He squeezed his eyes shut, not being able to stand seeing the ruby and the sapphire anymore. The only thing that was on his mind right now was that he didn't want this.  
Not like this anyway…the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he ever really wanted something like this in the first place.  
It just felt all so wrong…  
  
"F-Father…ple-please no more…"  
  
The elder shushed him. "It's okay. Just a little--endure it just a little longer."  
  
Morty wasn't sure if he could. Despite all the negative feelings and the unmistakable pain in his lower regions, his body betrayed him and his slowly waning erection had risen to its full glory again. He was truly wretched for enjoying it after all and maybe the fiend had been always right.  
  
No matter how much he denied it, this was probably what he had always desired.  
  
The obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin reverberated throughout the small room, increasing in volume with each of Father Specs' hard thrusts. Light sobbed moans and low, barely repressed grunts joined the chorus – a lewd song to their sinful dance.  
Above all that, Morty didn't even notice that the demon had become unusually silent.  
  
"So-so close…" Father Specs mumbled, his movements becoming faster and more frantic. "Just a little more and you'll receive my blessing, Morty."  
  
"Y-yes, Father…pl-please give me…y-your blessing…" Morty replied numbly.  
  
It didn't feel real. Everything just felt too surreal to him right now. Like it was past his comprehension. So scared of losing the last of his sanity, Morty focused on the only thing that was still tangible to him. Concentrating on that pleasure and trying to chase his orgasm. Just waiting for that sweet relief that he knew was waiting for him and would blank out his crumbling mind in flashing whiteness.  
  
So, he wrapped his shaking legs around the priest's waist, readily welcoming him inside his body and trying to greet each motion with one of his own, thankful of the hands that previously held him down while he squirmed and now guided him into the movements. In his hazy mind, he imagined that praise was falling from the other man's lips, believing to hear whispered "good boy"s but he couldn't be sure that he really heard it.  
  
His moaning and mumbling became as frantic as the priest's pace and he wasn't even aware of what he was asking for anymore. "Fa-father, please! Bless me!!"  
  
A groan answered him and he felt so close. He just wanted it to be over. For it all to end already!  
  
The hands on his hips tightened their grip and the priest thrust deep, trying to enter his body as far as he could and through his stuttering strokes, Morty felt hot liquid filling his core, ultimately triggering the boy's own finish that was accompanied by a hoarse scream and spurts of his essence spilling over his stomach.  
  
"There you go, baby." For a moment, he thought that it was the demon who whispered these words into his ear, but he realized that it was Father Specs, who said it, having folded over his body.  
  
Suddenly, silence returned to the room again, reestablishing the image of immaculateness and it was only broken by gasps as both males tried to catch their breaths.  
  
Morty laid limply in his bounds, like a doll. While his cheeks were almost dried from the heat of his flush, residue tears still clung to his lashes – a detail that he barely took notice of as he stared blankly at the grey ceiling.  
He winced as Father Specs pulled out of him and the sudden emptiness left him feeling hollow – even more devoid.  
  
As the priest untied him from the bedframe again, he didn't dare move – he only continued to lay there and…breathe.  
  
Since he had been struggling before, the cloths left marks on his wrists and Father Specs gently massaged them, getting the blood flowing again and making his numb hands feel like pins and needles.  
That he was treating him this gently after everything that had just happened, sent a fresh wave of warm tears over his cheeks and his attempts at calming his breathing again was blown to the wind as he began to sob anew.  
  
The priest released his wrist and instead pulled the teen up and into an embrace, Morty flinching from the pain in his backside that sitting caused him.  
  
"F-Father…th-that…" He didn't know what to say, which words to choose to express how betrayed he felt right now by Father Specs' actions because he had really needed his help. "…I-I-I was s-serious…about the d-demon…"  
  
Hands stroked gently over his back as he sobbed into the priest's robe. "I know, but he's gone now, Little Lamb."  
  
Of course, Morty knew that it couldn't be, but he still reluctantly lifted his head and looked around the room.  
To his surprise, he couldn't see the fiend anywhere.  
  
"Huh?" He couldn't believe it. "You-you're right, Father. He really is gone! It worked!"  
  
With big eyes, he looked up at Father Specs, who chuckled and wore a grin full of mirth. "Of course, it did, my Little Lamb. Did you ever doubt me?"  
  
"I'm so sorry for not having faith in you, Father Specs." Morty honestly felt ashamed and his face heated up for the umpteenth time this day.  
  
Again, the priest chuckled.  
  
Then he released him out of his arms and ushered him from the bed. "Now, I believe that you should retire to your own quarters lest someone finds us here like this and draws wrong assumptions."  
  
"O-oh geez. You're right, Father." Hastily, he pulled down his nightgown to cover his thin frame as he scrambled to his feet.  
  
With a slight limp in his gait, he made his way to the door, but before he could open it, a long arm reached past him and blocked his path. Questioningly, he turned around and looked at Father Specs, who also extended his other arm and boxed the boy in between them.  
  
The way that the priest looked at him, felt familiar. "F-Father Specs…?"  
  
"Morty, just to make sure that you are fully freed from the influence of the demon, you should come visit me here on the regular."  
  
"O-okay…" The gaze made him feel frightened and aroused at the same time and the implication of what these visits would entail wasn't lost on him, but did he really have a choice?  
  
At this point, he wasn't even sure about his feelings for the priest anymore…only that he was so, so grateful to Father Specs for his help. He definitely owed him something.  
  
"And Morty, I'm sure that I don't have to remind you, but all of this is just between the two of us. No one else needs to know about it. Understand?"  
  
Hastily, the brunet nodded his head. "O-Of course, Father."  
  
" _Good~_ " With that, he pulled his arms away again and let the teen leave. "Rest well, _Little Lamb_."  
  
"You, too, Father Specs."  
  
Morty quickly slipped out of the door and hurried back to his bedroom, hoping that he wouldn't run into anyone on the way and having to answer unpleasant questions.  
In his haste to leave, he didn't notice that the priest's eyes followed him down the hallway, the twin orbs glowing in an inhuman red color that the boy would have recognized from many restless nights…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the ending isn't too confusing because I didn't add an explanation for what exactly happened there. It would kind of ruin the story if I gave you an entire paragraph on the details so instead I just leave it up to your imagination ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, I wanted to post the entire thing as a oneshot, but since it turned out too long (13k+ words), I decided to cut it down in (uneven-lengthened) chapters now. Otherwise, no one would read it…


End file.
